


The Distraction

by InterruptingDinosaur



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:10:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterruptingDinosaur/pseuds/InterruptingDinosaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anthea has one job only: keep John Watson distracted and out of the flat. However, it doesn't go exactly as planned since John proves to be a difficult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> Written pre-season 2. Cross posted from ff.net.

It didn't take long for Sherlock to discover that Mycroft had gone so far as to install cameras inside the flat. Of course it only took Sherlock a week to see the seemingly undetectable. This was Sherlock Holmes, brother of the brilliant Mycroft Holmes. The brilliance ran in the family.

Mycroft was furious when his spying was detected. He completely forgot about his diet and devoured a whole box of chocolates before he realized what he had done. But, of course, the meddling did not stop. He ordered a new batch of noise detecting cameras and demanded that they were installed immediately. The previous installers, having been incompetent enough to place the cameras in obvious places, were fired. Expert spies, otherwise known as friends of Mycroft from the C.I.A., were called in for favours. The job would be done right this time.

Unfortunately, the criminal masses decided that they would take a little holiday. Sherlock never left the flat long enough for the cameras to be installed correctly. No cases were brought to Sherlock in nearly three weeks. He spent his days in the flat, sawing away his violin, and snapping at anyone who dared criticize his ways. Mrs. Hudson gave strict warnings to anyone who wanted to enter the flat. Those who didn't believe the poor old lady ran away in tears.

Luckily, Mycroft was clever. He invented a fake case that intrigued Sherlock enough to lure him out of the flat. Mycroft made sure to subtly include a challenge to his brother, making sure Sherlock would be unable to resist. A missing politician, an upcoming election, maybe a few pieces of evidence thrown here or there was enough to lure Sherlock like a child enticed by candy.

It was that bloody flatmate of his, Dr. Watson, who proved to be the problem. He didn't leave the flat when Mycroft insisted that Sherlock should be accompanied by his loyal blogger. John had politely declined, saying that he wanted to rest up because of long shifts at the surgery.

The camera installers had waited for John to fall asleep, but he never did.

Mycroft was at a loss until he heard the  _tap tap_  of his long-legged assistant on her Blackberry. He knew that she was considered attractive by male standards. Tanned skin, big eyes, bouncy brunette curls— she always had men giving her double takes on the streets. She never noticed the attention though. Having her eyes trained on the small screen of her cellular phone made her ignorant. However, she was ambitious. She was always following orders from her boss, calling him 'sir', and doing whatever it took to stay as his second hand.

And wasn't that army doctor desperate for her number?

—

John wasn't expecting any visitors that afternoon. Sherlock had just begrudgingly left for a case with his brother. They were hot on the trail of a possibly kidnapped politician. Both of the Holmes brothers had invited him to join them, but he declined, choosing instead to spend a peaceful day at home. It had been a while since he knew what 'quiet' meant. If it wasn't the sound of complaints from a pouting Sherlock, it was the raucous racket of his flatmate's awful violin sawing that filled the flat with noise.

He had just settled comfortably in an armchair, steaming cup of tea in hand, when someone knocked on the door.

"John Watson," a dewy-eyed woman greeted him at the door.

John was taken aback for it was none other than Mycroft's assistant, the woman who was not named Anthea. She was harder to recognize without the Blackberry in her face.

"Anthea!" he exclaimed in surprise.

She smiled a charming smile.

"What brings you here?" John asked. He then remembered his manners. "Come in, come in!"

Anthea looked hesitant. "Um, actually, I'd like to take you somewhere."

John blinked. "Like a kidnapping?"

Anthea grinned. "Like a kidnapping."

John hesitated for a moment, but then he shrugged, grabbed his coat, and shut the front door. His afternoon was free, and he would not turn down a chance to spend it with a beautiful woman. Dates were rarer these days with Sherlock constantly hanging by his side. Women usually mistook them for a couple. It took a lot of stammering and blushing to explain that they were in fact just flatmates, but usually by the time he was finished explaining, the women would get bored and leave.

"Don't you have to, you know, work?" John asked. He balled his hands into fists and shoved them into his pockets. It was a chilly day in the big city. A cool and vicious whipped at Anthea's hair, but she hardly took notice.

"Day off," she explained.

"Oh, so you have those, do you?"

"Occasionally,"

There was an awkward silence.

"Where are we going?"

Anthea shrugged. "I'm not sure. Let's just keep walking."

They eventually stopped in front of a fountain, not too far from Baker Street. Both John and Anthea took a seat on a stone bench.

"Why did you decide to visit me today?" John asked. He was burning to know since he had been rejected the last time he tried his advances on her.

"You told me that if I ever had any free time, I could give you a ring."

"Oh," John said, but he was still confused.

They sat for a while on the park bench just people watching. A few minutes passed before the coldness seeped through John's coat.

"I'm sorry, but would you like to continue this kidnapping back at my flat? I could start a fire in the fireplace. It's a lot better than staying in the cold," John said, standing up.

"No!" Anthea shouted abruptly. She jumped up.

"Why?"

"Um, because, we just left the flat. This kidnapping has barely started!"

"Yes, but I'm willing to be kidnapped at my flat too."

Anthea was still trying to think of a viable excuse when John turned around and started walking back to the direction of Baker Street. She had to think of something, fast.

Before John knew it he was yanked on the arm and pulled into a kiss.

To be honest, the kiss had been a last resort. Anthea couldn't honestly say that she enjoyed it at first. But John slowly reeled her in until they were less than an inch apart. She felt his breath on her face, and his cold hands resting on her hips. She ran her hands through his sandy hair.  _So this is the definition of euphoria._

John couldn't believe his lucky stars. This woman, who he was so anxious to date, was snogging him.  _This is quite enjoyable._  He thought happily as she ran her hands through his hair. He quite liked the feeling of her soft lips on his, and the smell of her spicy perfume. It was at this moment that he silently laughed at all those women who had called him gay.

This kiss was so enjoyable for Anthea that it soon turned into a full-fledged snogging session. She hadn't anticipated for it to have lasted so long, but by the time she pulled away, fifteen minutes had passed. Her lipstick had smudged on John's face, but she hardly noticed. A vibration in her coat pocket emitted from her Blackberry. The text read:

_Job complete. Bring the doctor back to the flat._

John's face fell when he saw that Anthea had whipped out her Blackberry again. Had he really been that awful of a snogger? He made a mental note to practice.

But after Anthea read the text, she shut off her phone and stuffed it back into the depths of her pocket. "Take me on a date, John."

And to that, he very eagerly did.


End file.
